Jack issued from the telephone booth a little dazed. A great captain of finance asking him, the humble bookkeeper, to call! Putting Jack on an equal footing by referring to himself as "Delamare"! A mystery suggested by the use of an assumed name! What could it all mean! On the one hand the skeptic in Jack whispered: "Some one is putting up a game on you!" On the other hand the dear hidden ego in us all that only needs a little appreciation to show its head said: "Why shouldn't Walter Delamare have private business with you as well as anybody?" Jack had only to walk across the street to the bank. The argument within him showed itself in a kind of defiant sheepishness as he passed the great portal and found himself under the far-flung vaulted ceiling. It had been designed to impress, and impressive it was. With its rare marbles and mural paintings it was more like a palace than a place of sober business. It was not yet the opening hour, but many elegant clerks were already starting to work behind the brass grills. Shabby Jack eyed their cravats and fine linen wistfully. He asked one of the uniformed attendants the way to Mr. Delamare's office, half expecting a roar of laughter to go up. But nothing of the sort occurred. He next found himself opposed by a silvery-haired old gentleman whose exquisite courtesy was the same to all. "Whom do you wish to see?" "Mr. Delamare." "Mr. Delamare can be seen only by appointment." "I have an appointment." The courteous old gentleman permitted himself a glance of surprise. "What name shall I say?" "Mr. Robinson." "Very good, sir." He returned with an air of slightly heightened respect. "Please step this way, sir." "It is all right," thought Jack. "Nobody is hoaxing me." He followed his conductor down a mahogany and plate glass corridor. 2 Jack was introduced to a room of truly noble proportions, vast and high, with a row of tall windows with round tops, looking down a narrow street to the harbor. In the center was a flat-topped desk as big as a banquet board and behind it sat a man, dwarfed in size by the vastness of his surroundings--but immeasurably increased in significance. The whole place focused in him. Jack's silken-tongued conductor announced him, and softly withdrew. The man at the desk raised his head and bent a look of strong interest and quizzical amusement on Jack. It was the face of a man well-assured of his place in the world; serene and careless; a man who consorted on equal terms with labor leaders and kings. "So this is what you're like!" he said. The unexpected look of interest and the strange words instead of heartening Jack had the contrary effect. His knees shook under him a little, his mouth went dry. "Sit down," said Mr. Delamare, indicating a chair opposite him. Jack obeyed, walking jerkily like an automaton. "I suppose you're wondering why I sent for you?" "Yes, sir." "You have no idea?" "No, sir."